Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
In the far northern lands where only the ice and snow that gird the high mountains are wonders to behold; great forests cluster about hills and dales rich in wild, untamed rivers and life in abundance. No one bothers to seek out these riches of nature, nor to leave the well patrolled and defended roadways that cut through the rocks, winding like a slithering snake. To leave these roads, and the fortress-like way stations where caravans and lone travelers find shelter, food, and supplies, is to court death in over a thousand horrendous methods.
Yet sometimes the death comes seeking the traveler out, as the young magician-apprentice and future author of theater and stage fame (in her plans at least) Dana Fleet-foot is finding out. Her own pace is just keeping her ahead of the howling mad hoard of yellow-green skinned human like figures trying to catch up with her.
“Never an army around when I need one!!!” she yelled out as loud as possible; though it was drowned out by the heightened and enraged cries of the two hundred following.
Clutching the squirming and cooing bundle in her arms even tighter she once again wonders about her own sanity when she stumbled across the wreckage of a caravan. Wagons lying about, smoke covered, smoldering, smashed and looted, while the horses, oxen and corpses of many humans were being roasted on a series of large bonfires by the bandits – orcs, the terror of the north.
She had just picked up the bundle of what she thought would be treasure, or some tradable goods, or whatnot; instead it turned out to contain a giggling, warbling little surprise! At the same moment she seen the creature, some of the orc’s spotted her and the chase began, with them howling “FRESH MEAT!!!”
“Why do I wind up running into a pack of sadistic cannibal’s?” Not the most comforting of thoughts as her mind dredges up each and every story she has heard of the cruelties and tortures these monsters love to commit; before killing their victims by flaying and skin stealing (with a knife) one inch at a time. Then they get mean.
“Oh no!” she shouts out with the sight of a massive rockslide over a hundred feet high stretching across the road and down into the river gorge below. Breaking her run abruptly, she comes to a sliding halt just short of the slide; only to hear the hollow thud of five arrows missing her by inches, save for the one tearing across her silken blouse and furred vest.
“I just paid for these things!” she shouts at the orc’s who stop for a moment and stare at her in confusion.
Knowing her desperate trick has earned her one shot for a more desperate maneuver, she just smiles, waves at them and when they return the gesture – faces still showing confused and consternated expressions – she bolts for the edge of the gorge, jumping out as far as possible and hoping to land among the shrubs and trees below.
Pulling her head up out of the river she sees the orcs howling in protest at her and the little creature she had just rescued once again. The stupid orcs did not even bother to fire their bows off at her. Making sure the bundle is high as she can hold it out of the water she looks about to get her bearings, having been carried downstream for a distance by the swift flow…uh oh.
Seeing the stone bridge that crosses the gorge about one hundred feet overhead, the great griffon like statues on each end and in the massive supporting arches in the middle, she recalls what is just on the other side.
Too late to do anything, they enter the cloudy mist surrounding the top of the falls; their combined screams of terror combine with the roaring cascade as they go over the edge in a fall that she is not looking forward to.
She was dreaming again, her life forgotten in the distant future; the here and now shows she is in a different body and on a far off world. Dana often has had these dreams, memories so vivid of places she knows that they have existed, and she has walked among them; they call to the magical fires in her blood and very being, so that she can shape and wield them…
In the deep Sea of Sand two lone figures race on the back of camels, seeking to stay ahead of the trio of Sand Dragons – creatures as long as five warhorses nose to tail, slim and sleek like greyhounds and wingless, while lightning fast. Leaning hard into the side of her camel, cloak hood streaming free in the wind along with her silk golden-brown hair flowing wildly behind her; amethyst eyes constantly look back to see how far the dragons have gained between glances.
Her companion leans back on his camel arm extended at the leading Dragon. Chanting a quick string of words of power his hand unleashes a blinding sunburst of fire. The holocaust of heat, smoke and brimstone nothing should survive save for the targets cooked ashes and bones. Yet from the smoke he sees it emerge unharmed, and angrier than before. Turning to his companion he shouts out, “Why did you not tell me they fire did not hurt them!”
“You never listened to me when I tried to tell you!” yelled back Felicity. A rare type of magician, called a sex-magus, her powers for the day are all but exhausted until she and her beloved have intimacy again. Picking up a pouch of fine metallic sand, she casts one of her remaining spells and scatters it about the two of them, which suddenly turn them into five separate, yet identical paired images.
Two large, loud, hollow booms come from behind her, indicating her beloved once again is trying to engage the dragons with magic; again not listening to the fact that these drakes are highly resistant to magic. One dragon they may have taken out together, not three at once.
Looking ahead again, she sees that the odds have gotten so much worse. Four more dragons are approaching from ahead, two to the right and two to the left; coming to join in the chase and meal afterwards. “Windie, we have company coming!!!”
“Get to that ravine ahead and under cover! Leave these runts to me! Should have done this in the first place…”
Turning so sharply into the ravine; driving into the deepest, narrowest part she can find, the camel panics and tears off; soon to become lunch for the advancing four. Of the three pursuing her and Wind Dragon she can hear their squeals and roars of surprise and…consternation?
One loud, earth shaking roar follows with two more, and then a final one as the unleashed thunder of a storm front mixes with fury of a tsunami coming ashore; The echoes of great objects slamming one into another shake small stones and sand down onto her head, forcing her to pull the cloak and hood up to avoid injury. Flashes of light and the sound of thunder wrack the area, deep hollow rumbling echo to the far horizon in sounds not heard in the deserts for millennia.
Pulling as far into the shelter and shadows she can the ground vibrates with what she can only assume are great bodies fighting, foots stamping and slams into the ground and sand. Bone snapping like cordwood catches her notice; just in time to see a Sand Dragons corpse flying over the ravines surface, its head flopped limply into the small depression. Along either side of its neck are fang marks some eight-inches wide, and three times as deep that pierced the dragons iron tough scales with such ease.
Rocks sliding down show a second Sand Dragon backing up, reared in claw to claw battle for dominance with a massive…her eyes widen at the sight of a dragon the size of ten houses length to length, sheer mass and strength overwhelming the much smaller dragon with contemptuous ease. When the third one jumps onto its back, a single swing of the large ones tail smashes its head, the force is such a stone wall twelve feet thick would have shattered, drops it to the ground – mortally wounded and unmoving.
Its great body scales a living, flowing pattern of emerald greens, sapphire blues, and onyx blacks withstand the teeth of the Sand Dragons bite. Head rearing back, open mouth showing off rows of sword sized teeth among those powerful jaws, it descends swiftly – and Felicity turns away, covering her face and ears as the death blow is delivered. The final snapping of bone is unavoidable, and she shudders at what must have become of her own beloved at the hands of that creature.
A soft thud followed by casual footfalls coming in her direction makes her look up. There stands her beloved Wind Dragon intact and hale. “How is this,” she just shakes her head in denial, “How is this possible, that beast up there…it, I mean it,…and the dragons…”
“Felicity, first I am all right and very much alive here before you. Second I am used to the questions you are trying to ask, so yes that ‘beastie’ up there was me, the Wind Dragon. Of whom I take a portion of my name after. It’s very good form to do battle with other dragons that have more brains in a portion of their anatomy than in their heads.”
Deciding enough was enough, Felicity just fainted.
“Yes,” he sighs while bending down to take her up in his arms, “I get a fair amount of that as well.”
The river and the falls were ahead of us, me and the little creature I had found back in the caravan. The rainbow of the falls edge, where water and stone pass into open sky sweeps at us; and yet I hear the dragon call to me in my dreams. I was flying and was the dragon, the dragon was me who was flying on great wings of silver.
What does it mean?
Am I the dragon or is the dragon me?
Then I slip back into the dream again…
Two hours later, having left the well mangled carcasses of all seven Sand Dragons behind, Wind Dragon heads onward with Felicity wrapped up in his one arm. A camel, especially this particularly nasty brute of a one, has come to be near the top of his ‘1000 absolute worst and smelliest beasties to be stuck riding upon.’ Right now he is debating what is rapidly becoming the more irritating to him; the prospect of facing another hoard of the Sand Dragons or the band of riders shadowing him and Felicity off in the distance, matching move for move.
Riding hard between the dunes, some of them reaching hundreds of meters in height and kilometers in length he pulls every trick in the book and his magical arsenal to discourage and lose these pursuers. Yet for each one he loses trail from, another band shows up and matches pace again.
Maneuvering the camel down into a W shaped depression, five exits in total present, he sees figures riding in from each of them, bows drawn and arrows knocked. Wearing the typical desert gear of raiders, he assumes that they are such; if not for Felicity still being unconscious he would deal with them appropriately. Instead he just raises one hand and shouts a word of power that grates like stone upon stone, mixing with the torrential floods of water on a spring melt.
The sand dunes tear asunder, forming a clear passage straight ahead; showing the force awaiting him on the other side of the dune – about a thousand or more warriors all clad for battle, plus many other mages and holy men; for the sake of Felicity, and to his own uttermost disgust, he raises his one hand in surrender.
“Sorry Felicity,” he said, “I wish we were elsewhere right now.”
“Granted it this wish, for you and your so utterly hot dish,” the ring on his finger, one of those that grants three wishes (now down to one left) flares in a brilliant light, and the desert cat-folks are left alone among the swirling dust.
Felicity just shakes her head, as a few hours ago she was being chased by dragons with her beloved, and now they are in the midst of a massive tropical oasis. Great fruit bearing trees, home to massive nests of birds and flowering vines, surround a large, clear pool of water fed by a rippling series of springs on the northern and east sides.
Having fainted before their little side trip here, he filled her in on what happened, including that crazy ring of wishes he used. She just smiles at how much he loves her and her loving him in turn.
Even the blanket she is sitting upon, resting her head on knees pulled up to her chin, he has crafted to exacting standards for her comfort; and then imbued it with the limited ability to fly – for a few minutes at a time. Seeing him out fishing, leaping from rock to rock as he tries to catch one with a fish gaff is comical – lunge and miss, lunge and miss, over and over again. So many times he almost falls into the water, pirouetting like a ballerina to maintain his balance with each miss.
“Hey Windie,” she called out after deciding to give him some extra encouragement. He looks up to see she has lifted her shirt, letting her bared breasts shine in the daylight. A coy smile crossing her face, she strokes each one in her hands, teasing the nipples with her thumbs, and beginning to stir the fires of passion within her own body. Licking her lips so seductively she lets her eyes clearly indicate what she is offering.
“Catch me a large enough fish and we will have some fun tonight!”
Old Wind Dragon just looks upon his dearest Felicity; secretly he holds some bit of shame for not being totally honest with her. Yes he takes his name after the great Wind Dragons of the high mountains and floating isles in the skies of this world; yet there is more to it than that…sometime soon I need to tell her and then watch the look on her face!
Laughing he salutes her and turns around to look for another fish; just in time to see one jump out of the water, three meter wide mouth filled with sharp teeth. Snapping shut about him, the fish plunges back into the water with a thundering splash, great waves of water flow out to the shore of the oasis.
Hands covering her mouth, eyes wide with fright and shock, she tries to figure out how she can aid her beloved.
Slipping out of her clothing she rushes down to the water and dives in, headed to the spot she has last seen them, and casts a spell that allows for breathing under water; a second, her last one available, grants her the same free movement in water as she has on land.
A large series of bubbles burst up to the surface, boiling like some massive volcanic upwelling was happening. The large tail fin of a fish emerges briefly, slapping the water and descending back under. Two glowing lights, bright yellow-gold, come close to the surface and then disappear down again while flashes of greens and blues sparkle as well.
Diving down, she swims among the torrents of bubbles, fighting to dive down as they seek to drag her back up. She sees emerging from the deeper depths, the border of light and darkness, two great forms; one solid and brick shaped, the other coiled about the other.
Seeing one of the great forms rushing up to the surface she hastens to get out of the way.
I can breathe under the water! How is this done?
I am the dragon of silver who can breathe as a fish does; or am I the fish who assumes she is a dragon?
I see the dragon; and I am her or is she me?
The little creature is nearby as I hear its warbling in the half night of my mind; it sings to me, and the magic of my blood answers in turn allowing me to feel its emotions – love, concern, care, friendship. The magic works without me knowing how, it just IS.
As something pushes into my hand I slip again into the dream…
Swept up in a maelstrom of bubbles and swirling currents she is turned around so many times she can no longer tell which way is up. Confusion soon gives way to panic and then terror as something takes hold of her arm; no not just her arm, it’s gripping her firmly about her torso, a great claw of silver and scales, massive talons over twenty inches in length.
Complete panic sets in as she desperately tries to get away even as she knows it’s futile. Finally she just gives in and resides herself to death coming shortly on the end of a monsters talon or teeth.
The sudden appearance of a cool, blue-white light has her turn around and opens her eyes; only to see among the strangest sights ever. Here she has magic to breath and move freely underwater for a short time; yet her own beloved has assumed the shape of a merman, so for now the water is his natural element as well. Looking him over she sees his bared chest and arms, solid frame bound in muscles harder and stronger than forged iron; a sweeping tail extending six feet from the waist on down swishes gently to keep him in place.
Doing a proper and formal court bow, he winks at her and gives a slight growl of desire in her direction. Her own laugh mingles with the still echoing resonance of his growl, making her look about before she understands the medium which water represents. Moving over to her with controlled maneuvers of his tail and hands, he moves along side of her and plants a quick little smooch on the cheek.
Quick as a striking eel he sweeps her along, one arm about her waist the other beneath her forearm. Soon he has both circling about, together, as a form of dance begins. Getting into the rhythm fairly quickly, Felicity smiles and places both legs together, moving in as close to a pattern as his fish half does. The wonders of dancing while FLOATING, underwater of all places, absolutely amazes her; not even in her fanciest dreams would she have considered this to be possible.
Of course, seeing her completely nude and with him in this new environment for her makes him grin like a true lecherous person he is at times; not that she really cares right now either.
She understands as a leg is drawn up against her beloved, the subtle play of water ebbs and flows over the two of them; drawing closer into him she wraps her one leg completely about him, while her lips draw onto his and the two engage in a long and fiery kiss.
Felicity feels the desires building within her, a fountain of passion and euphoric bliss bubbling and gurgling out to all ends of her body and mind. Tossing aside all restraint, she crushes him into her body, arms locking fiercely about his shoulders; her remaining leg locking in with the other. Her body flinches and squirms under his kisses. Each caress on the sides of her abdomen, find all the right spots that set her on fire.
His kissing moves up her neck to her cheeks, nose, and forehead and onto her ears, touching her in just one spot that turns her wilder than a panther in pursuit of its favored dinner. Her breathing grows shallower and raspy while her eyes flutter in delight. First one ear then the next lower and press against her head, while she presses her cheek hard into his neck and shoulder from the passionate bliss firing through her being.
Finally she feels her beloveds own manhood reaching to attention, and she is more than ready as well; sliding as close to him as she can, she feels his hands lower to her bottom and hold her in place. Rubbing slowly against her own center of pleasures that only women have, he gets her worked up to a frenzy of motion and eyes blazing with absolute lust.
With one hand she guides him into her body, reveling in their union with each thrust and flexing of their bodies in unison; a dance they play out that is older than time itself. Faster than should have occurred, yet an eternity of wild eyed bliss and fiery passions, he finally hits his release.
Floating in each others embrace for a time, cuddling and kissing, her erotica-based magic fully recharged again, she just revels in the love they have for one another. Slowly they drift in a circle, his swishing and swirling tail keeping them in place.
Suddenly she feel her throat constricting and her lungs burning for want of air, as the water breathing magic has run its due; unable to do anything she tries to push for the surface when Wind Dragon catches her about the waste as they hurl upward, launching out of the water, the both landing on a small platform of magical force. He having in mid-leap turned back to his normal human form.
A bit later they are sitting on the large blanket, he combing out her long tresses one part at a time. The silence grows between them, as he wonders if their time together is now done. He should have never allowed her to be under the water for so long a time.
“Felicity this is my fault, I should never have kept you under for…” the look he is getting from her shuts him up in an instant, something that seldom occurs from anyone. In his long life he has learned there are times to take action, and times to shut up and bear the storm; and now this is apparently one of them.
“Windie listen,” she took both of his hands into her own, no anger or rage in her words, “this is no ones fault, we got caught up in the moment and lost track of the time; you were able to save me, so the next time we do this in the water, we have a simple solution – you make me into a cat-mermaid.”
“As my Princess Felicity demands so it shall be done.”
“Oh you will learn why I rue that very phrase of words soon enough, my parents castle is not too far over those hills, and we are headed there anyhow. So before anything else happens, go back into that water and get me that blasted fish – I’m starving…”
Awareness slowly returned to Dana, one painful portion of her body at a time. Her ears still ring, sounding as if the thunder of the falls is nearby, yet strangely muffled. Vaguely, she remembers her and the little creature going over the edge with a loud scream – her in uttermost panic, it with sheer delight. Over a thousand feet they fell and once again she wishes she knew a spell that could turn her into a bird, stop her fall short of the rocks below…rocks below?
Moving her hand about to get some idea of where she is, on beach, rock or drifting tree; and to her surprise she feels only a soft, yielding mattress stuffed with down, while a soft, thick, woven blanket covers her up. Her own clothing is gone, though she is covered in a fine robe fit for a princess. As her eyes finally open, taking in the half-light of a great cavern, something warm and gentle nuzzles her hand.
Taking a look she sees the small, silver scaled head, bearing a rough triangle shape common on the few stories of silver dragons she knows.
“So you came through the fall alright?” As it warbles softly, the little dragon, no more than the length of her arm, pushes its head all the harder into her hands palm; such strength it has, and those little wings, each one as wide as it is long shimmer with the silver luster of newly minted coins…
Coins, gems, chests of items, a hoard fit for a king…or a, a…
“Oh NUTS!” she shouts out, or attempts to for her voice half yells and half croaks from being so parched. How long was I out for?
“Sath’asop’kindel,” a loud, feminine, melodious and inhuman voice called out, “leave your friend be, she is still trying to heal up. If I move into the light do you PLEASE promise not to yell or scream again; that kind of noise all but shatters my eardrums.”
“Do I have any choice in the matter?” she has a fairly good idea of what she is talking to; and if she is right her lifespan will come to an end very, very soon.
“My dear you always have a choice in life for everything you do or do not do; just as in saving my sons life from the orc hoard. I have to remember not to bite an orc ever again; the taste is worse than their smell and lingers on the tongue for days…ack!”
Despite her better nature, the sound of that voice making a human sound of disgust when a person bites into a food that tastes especially foul sends her into fit of laughter. The sharp pain in her ribs causes her to double up with teeth clenched to keep from screaming. Her blood feels like it is on fire, tingling, calling, demanding and imploring her to unleash her magic and become…what?
Opening her eyes at last, she sees the great green orb staring at her, its cat-like slit narrowing further as she starts shaking in utter terror; face to eye with a legend brought to life. “I guess I’m a late night snack?”
Thunderous laughter fills and echoes across the cavern and chambers beyond her sight. “Oh we have with us a true joke teller and story weaver! No wonder you would be both insane and brave enough to bring my son home over the falls.”
Finally building up enough courage to look up, up, and further up still, she sees the great eye and its twin set in the great triangle face of the dragon roaring in laughter. Looking like the little dragon she had saved, the mother dragon is of a rich silver, with some iridescent coloration flowing across her scales – the sign of her being well over a thousand years in age.
The dragons’ great head lolls side to side, as if trying to focus on Dana with both eyes and not being able to solve the problem. “Hang on a second; you humans are so small that talking and looking at the same time can be rather awkward.”
Before her very eyes the dragons immense shape, a form the length over twelve cottages put end to end, folded wings tight against her body, and legs ending in claws thirty-inches in length, flows and changes as it collapses in on itself. Finally the transformation ceases, leaving the dragon in the form of a lightly tanned, faun-colored hair human woman clad in simple, yet fine robes that combine the color of a cloud with a soft cherry pink swirl.
The little dragon half jumps, half flies into her arms, cuddling its head against her cheek in loving affection as her now human hand strokes it on the neck. To Dana, this has all the makings of a wonderful story.
Dragging herself to a sitting position and bracing on one hand to keep from falling over, she executes a simple, awkward and head-spinning bow. Quicker than she would have thought possible, the dragon-cum-lady catches her with one freed arm and eases her back down on the mattress.
“Let’s save the full formal introductions for later. I usually go by the name of Melody among the humans; and again, you have my thanks for saving my son. He was away playing when I was out hunting for our dinner and got caught by the human’s caravan you stumbled upon, after the orcs destroyed it of course.”
“I was returning when you went over the falls screaming – yes, his scream was for me, not of terror – and I managed to catch you before slamming into the rocks below; unfortunately there were a fair number of stone outcrops on the way down you bothered to bump into, I was fortunate you did not die.”
“Are you the dragon in my dreams? Or the one that my magic is…calling or am I just insane?”
“Insane no, the same to the dragon in your dreams; the one you spoke of while unconscious is an ancestor that both of us have in common. A great silver dragon who loved to pretend to be a Wind Dragon; at some point he met Felicity, the human ancestor of yours, and – well you are here so you get the idea…he loved to transform into many shapes, especially of mermen and swim among the seas. Silver dragons such as me can breathe in the water as well as we do on land.”
“That dragon blood you have from so far back called to you due to holding my son when you rescued him; and when I managed to catch you before hitting the rocks at the bottom of the falls.”
“On wings of silver I flew as a dragon,” she said, understanding dawning in full; it was Melody who was the dragon, catching her and her son on her back. The impact knocked her out cold, apparently for some time. “So the creature I felt nuzzling my hand was your son?”
“Yes, and before you ask, as dragons are magical creatures your instinctive command of magic allowed you to understand what he is feeling when close up; that same instinct is what will make you into a great magician if you choose to follow that route in life,” Melody looks at her as a worried mother would to a sick child, “if you wish I can teach you how to wield the power at your command better. I would like some company and maybe a baby sitter now and then to keep him out of trouble.”
“Now, rest up and think on it for a few days, I’ll get you some water for your throat…I must be becoming senile in my advanced age to forget about that…right now you are my guest; and what do you wish for dinner?”
“How about a large fish?” she said, remembering the lady she had been in her dreams.
The laughter of two dragons and a apprentice-mage and aspiring playwright carries out of the cavern behind the falls; sparking a new legend among the inhabitants in the area who hear and do not understand.
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